


seasonal pining

by librain



Series: flourish and blotts [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Amortentia, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, I'm in finals season and I need an escape, Not Epilogue Compliant, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, One Shot, Pining, Post-War, Pre-Relationship, literally just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:14:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28052256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/librain/pseuds/librain
Summary: Maple and cinnamon, like the sweets his mother would owl him throughout his younger years at Hogwarts. Leather, like a new pair of Quidditch gloves. And pine trees.Sort of.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: flourish and blotts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064639
Comments: 3
Kudos: 123





	seasonal pining

**Author's Note:**

> yeah the title is a pun, sue me

It was Slughorn’s fault really. 

Since his sixth year, when he left that cauldron of Amortentia out for the entire class of horny teenagers to inhale for an hour. Draco reckoned the scent was likely unforgettable. 

Maple and cinnamon, like the sweets his mother would owl him throughout his younger years at Hogwarts. Leather, like a new pair of Quidditch gloves. And pine trees. 

Sort of. 

The pine smell he was never able to properly place. The day he first discovered the smell of his Amortentia he made his way to the Forbidden Forest during his first free period to inhale the scent of the towering pines. It was slightly off. Too fresh, too earthy. 

Something was missing. 

He thought maybe it was the time of year. Christmas came and the Great Hall was decorated with massive Christmas trees. Draco didn’t get to enjoy the festive spirit, there was too much on his mind as the year ended and his task went unfinished. 

Besides, the scent wasn’t quite right anyway. 

The Manor was a dreary affair. The elves decorated as best they could while still accommodating their house guests. All scents were eliminated with charms as they agitated Greyback every time the full moon came closer. Narcissa Malfoy was all too willing to sacrifice aesthetics to appease the werewolf. 

Draco managed to snip a branch before the spells were cast to keep in his room, but it disappeared the next morning with the elves’ regular cleaning routine. 

He thought he got close to the right smell once in his eighth year when McGonagall was finalizing preparations for the Yule Ball with him and the Head Girl after the feast, but as quickly as he noticed it was gone again. 

After Hogwarts, Draco moved out of the Manor and into one of his family’s other properties in the city. He was expected to return Christmas Day for dinner with the Greengrasses to finalize the terms of his and Astoria’s betrothal, but until then, he had time to himself. He spent his time exploring the Muggle world, taking public transit as far as he could, walking random streets and then apparating home when he got lost. 

In one of his explorations, he happened upon a farm. The lights were off, no one was around so he pulled out his wand to apparate when he smelled it. It was still slightly wrong, but close. 

A man was packing his truck with equipment, a pile of misshapen trees stacked next to it. 

“Excuse me, sir,” Draco asked before he knew what he was doing. 

“Yeah?” The man’s voice was gruff, and he eyed Draco up and down, likely judging the strange cut of his coat-like robes and the scales on his shoes. 

“Are the trees for sale?”

The man informed him he was welcome to take one, as they were just to be turned into firewood and forgotten about. When Draco asked for all of them, the man was perplexed by his seeming lack of equipment but shrugged and promptly left. 

So, after a few spells, Draco found himself in the sitting room of his home surrounded by dilapidated trees, leaning on furniture, walls, and some just flat on the floor. He sat in an armchair, book forgotten on his lap, maple cinnamon candy wrappers on the table beside him, watching the snowfall alone on Christmas eve. It was the most peace he had felt in years. 

The next Christmas Draco was married and Astoria was already extremely pregnant. She didn’t quite understand his desire to fill their home with trees but indulged him as it clearly brought him comfort. 

The Christmas after that Draco was father to an almost year old son and a widower for nearly as long. They all knew Astoria was afflicted with an old blood curse, they just didn’t know it would take her from them so soon. 

They weren’t in love, but she was one of his best friends. He didn’t buy any trees that year. On Christmas eve, a delivery came from the man with the truck. A small tree and a note, saying Astoria scheduled the gift months in advance knowing she wouldn’t make it until December. 

Draco sat with a sleeping Scorpius in his lap next to the bare tree. 

The new year brought change for Draco. He hired an elf, as elves now required proper employment courtesy of legislation from one Hermione Granger, as a nanny for his son. He got a job with the Ministry in Potions Research and Development, less for the salary and more for something to distract from the fact that he was a twenty-one-year-old single father. 

He had to consult with the Aurors on various cases meaning being acquainted with Potter and Weasley. After a few awkward conversations and a stilted apology, they were able to form a civil working relationship. He interacted with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures far more for permissions to use certain rare ingredients. That meant meeting with Hermione Granger. 

It was easier to be around Granger. She assured him during their eighth year that she had already forgiven him, even making the effort to be friendly to him when they crossed paths in their shared dormitories. 

No, it wasn’t the fear of animosity that made him apprehensive prior to every meeting. It was the way she made him feel. She always insisted to have their meetings in his lab, stating she missed the excitement potioneering brought. He didn’t fight it, somehow her presence next to him was calming, especially when she brought her leather portfolio with her. 

Her aura was soothing.  _ Gods, he sounded like Trelawney.  _

Through years of promotions, department restructuring, hiring, and firing, somehow Hermione remained as his contact for potions ingredient supplying. 

He asked her once why, even as Deputy Head, she still was forced to meet him to discuss something as petty as the rights to dragon’s blood. She replied that he was the only potioneer that she trusted to not push for more than what was necessary. 

Draco’s relationship with his peers evolved slightly. He spent a lot of time with his former Slytherin classmates, Theo and Daphne especially as they were Scorpius’ godparents. 

He saw a lot of Potter, Weasley, and Granger over the years as well. The men were always cordial at Ministry events and when they ran into each other in public on occasion. Granger was much more enthusiastic, always wanting to ask him questions about the newest edition of  _ Potions Weekly _ or discuss foreign legislation on creature hunting that she found  _ absolutely abhorrent _ . He could tell that their friendship annoyed her friends, but could also see their relief when she engaged him in academic discussions instead of rambling on to them in the middle of the Leaky Cauldron. 

His annual holiday traditions continued as well. Draco brought Scorpius to the Muggle tree farm to pick out a tree every December. Bernie, whose name Draco learned on their fourth year of encountering, loved the excitement on the young child’s face as he ran through the maze of trees displayed, and loved the fact that the Malfoys left with no less than five trees each year. 

Draco felt less alone as a father as it seemed many from his generation weren’t far behind him in having children of their own. Harry and Ginny Potter had a son a couple of years after Scorpius was born and were rumored to have another on the way, the Notts had given Scorpius cousins in the form of twin girls, and many other young Hogwarts alum were racing to the aisle to start families of their own. 

Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown were one such couple and the announcement of their marriage filled Draco with a myriad of emotions. He was first off amused, as it seemed the fast nature of their nuptials implied they also had a child coming. Second, he was surprised. He had assumed that Weasley and Granger had been dating, but it seemed she was unattached this whole time. 

He then recognized the third emotion he felt; relief. 

Draco and Scorpius had to attend the farm a weekend earlier than usual this year. Narcissa finally caved and agreed that Draco could host Christmas in his home, but that meant she would be staying over Christmas eve to watch Scorpius so he could finally go to the Ministry Yule Gala.  _ It is okay to move on, Draco _ , she insisted,  _ it’s not like you’re getting any younger _ . 

Scorpius ran to the trees before they could even say hello to Bernie, so Draco gave him a quick wave and followed his son. He walked quickly up and down the aisles of trees calling his son's name. Draco quickly turned a corner and collided with someone.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was…” His voice faltered when he was bombarded with the scent he had been chasing for a decade.

“Draco? What are you doing here?” Granger asked, smiling up at him. 

His Amortentia was Hermione Granger in a Christmas tree farm. 

He was saved from his struggle to speak by Scorpius jumping out from where he hid amongst the trees yelling, “Gotcha, Daddy!”

He laughed and made a big show of struggling to pick him up, chastised Scorpius for running off. He looked back at Hermione who was smiling at the exchange. 

“Scorp and I are here to get our trees. I’ve been getting our Christmas trees here every year.”

“Trees, plural?” She questioned.

Draco smiled sheepishly, “Scorpius always chooses the most pathetic trees every year, says he can’t pick just one.” He didn’t mention that he craved their scent every year, a scent that was apparently only completed by her. 

“They need to have a home for Christmas too!” Scorpius exclaimed. 

Hermione chuckled. “I always did the same thing, drove my parents barmy.”

Scorpius began to fight against his father’s hold, demanding to be let down to find their trees.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Hermione said as a goodbye. She waved slightly and made her way down the snowy path. 

“Granger!”

She turned, smiling curiously. He smiled nervously in return. 

“Do you have a date for the Yule Gala next week?”

The missing scent, he discovered, was the eucalyptus in the hair potion she began using in eighth year. Her Amortentia was not the scent of freshly mowed grass, as she originally thought, but the smell of the plant clippings that were drying in Draco’s potions lab, the parchment was the pictures Scorpius drew her to hang in her office, and the spearmint toothpaste the taste Draco left in her mouth every time he kissed her. 

**Author's Note:**

> un beta'd, barely edited, i just needed something to procrastinate studying ahah  
> didn't realise until after I wrote that this is sort of inspired by Christmas tree farms by Taylor swift whoops


End file.
